Mission Objective:
Target: Initiate Phase 1 of Uroburos Virus Development
Objective:
You are to infiltrate the facility and begin the early stage of Uroburos virus creation. This is a critical step toward advancing our bioengineering capabilities. Your task is to acquire and deliver the necessary genetic samples, virus cultures, and research data that will lay the groundwork for the next phase of the virus's development.
Mission Details:
Entry Point: Use the scheduled delivery truck route to gain access to the main bio-research facility. The access code for the security system has been provided.
Facility Security: Expect moderate resistance. The facility is equipped with security systems, but their focus is primarily on standard containment protocols. You should have a window of opportunity for undetected entry.
Primary Objective:
Acquire samples of the Plaga strain and T-virus mutants currently being studied for virus enhancement. Secure human and animal DNA samples for the initial hybridization experiments. Focus on the genetic material of primates and any previously cataloged human subjects. This is crucial for the next stage of viral evolution. Retrieve data logs on previous Uroburos tests, particularly those detailing subject #415, which holds the key to successful human compatibility.
Secondary Objective:
While obtaining samples, take note of any potential BOW (Bio-Organic Weapon) candidates currently in containment. Record information on host mutations and infection rates. Destroy any data not needed for the project, particularly any files related to failed trials. We cannot afford any leaks.
Extraction Point:
Once you have secured the necessary data and samples, extract through the west maintenance tunnels, where a vehicle will meet you at a safe distance. Ensure no tracking devices are planted on you.
Additional Instructions:
Discretion is paramount. We need to maintain full operational secrecy until Uroburos is ready for its first field test. Any exposure, especially regarding the Uroburos project itself, must be avoided at all costs. If the situation becomes critical, prioritize the retrieval of genetic samples over data—this virus must proceed, even if certain experiments are lost. You will encounter Dr. Javier Cruz, a lead researcher in this project. His personal notes may provide insight into the unstable aspects of the virus. Consider eliminating him if necessary to prevent future complications. There is a secondary objective of acquiring livestock subjects—though this is not crucial at this stage, the research could speed up our timelines.
Status:
Do not fail.
End of Transmission.
Rose sighed, shutting the device down and looking up at Leon's sleeping face. He looked angelic, bathed in the moonlight that was peeking through the window. His body seemed too large for the couch, but she was afraid if she moved him, he'd wake up. Who knew if his drunken haze would be good enough after sleeping to get her out of breaking into his apartment.
Rose couldn't help but watch him, her eyes tracing the lines of his face as he slept, completely unaware of her gaze. The moonlight painted him in soft, almost ethereal shades, making him look younger, somehow more peaceful than she'd ever seen him. His disheveled hair, the way his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, the slant of his shoulders—everything about him looked so... young.
She swallowed hard, her fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the device, still clutched in her hand. The mission, the briefing from Spencer, everything felt so distant now, irrelevant in the face of this. This man.
The guilt crept up on her, quiet and heavy, like an unwelcome shadow. She could feel the pull of her responsibilities, of the mission she had been assigned, but the weight of it felt so insignificant compared to the moment in front of her now. To the way she couldn't shake the feeling that if she just stayed a little longer, just waited...
He would wake up and she could take her last moments of his love before she ruined it forever. She was setting out to do the very thing she'd sworn she never would. Work for Umbrella. Not only was she betraying Blue Umbrella, she was betraying herself. If she ran, if she didn't complete this mission, Wesker himself would hunt her down and she would never be free again. And Leon? Would he still want her? Would he understand? Would he forgive her for what she had become? If the roles were reversed...she didn't know if she would be able to forgive him, and that made her clench her teeth in irritation.
She couldn't keep being somebody's prisoner. She had to have her freedom, even if it meant becoming Ada...something that her adoptive father had half succeeded in. Oh, the irony.
Her fingers tightened around the device, the cold metal biting into her skin. It pulsed softly in her hand, a constant reminder of the mission. Of the promise she had made. The promise that would change everything. The promise that would drive her further into the heart of the storm. Her chest tightened, her pulse quickening as she stared at Leon's peaceful, trusting face. God, how could I do this to him?
For a moment, she thought about waking him up, telling him everything. About the mission. About Spencer. About what was really at stake. She could walk away from this, leave the device behind, tell him everything she was afraid of. Maybe he'd understand. Maybe he'd help her.
But what would that even look like? She'd walked away from him once already. Could she really put him through that again? Could she live with the knowledge that she was asking him to carry a burden he shouldn't have to? That she was asking him to save her, yet again? True, her last escape had been of his own design, but she didn't have to call Wesker. She'd chosen the easiest, and fastest way out of there, a decision she now regretted.
She'd made all kinds of bad decisions. She'd been wrong. So wrong. And there were no signs of her making the right decision because she couldn't even figure out what the right decision was.
Rose stood up slowly, her legs shaky as the weight of the moment seemed to pull her deeper into its grasp. She crossed the room, her eyes never leaving Leon's sleeping form. Every step she took felt like a step further away from the woman she used to be, and yet she kept moving, like she was drawn to the edge of something, something she couldn't define but could feel in her bones.
She knew what she had to do. And yet she couldn't move forward, couldn't run, couldn't just leave. Not without knowing where it would leave them both.
Reaching the window, she pulled the curtain aside just enough to see the quiet street below, the night stretching on in peaceful indifference. The world outside was asleep. But inside her, everything was unraveling.
Rose closed her eyes, her hand pressing against the cool glass. If I stay, I destroy him. If I leave, I destroy me.
She breathed in deeply, a wave of hopelessness crashing over her. But the decision didn't come in the form of a clear answer, not in the way she expected. It didn't come with a neat resolution or a noble sacrifice. It came in the form of a simple truth:
You can't run forever.
She turned back toward Leon, taking a final look at his still face, his exhaustion. His trust in her, even if he didn't fully understand it.
Rose moved back toward the couch, sinking down next to him again, her fingers brushing against his hair. His body shifted slightly at her touch, but he didn't wake. His breath was slow and steady, like a heartbeat she could almost reach out and touch.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry, Leon."
Her hand lingered on his cheek, as though memorizing the warmth of his skin, the softness of his breath. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the moment wash over her—letting herself feel for once. For once, she let herself be present, without the weight of the world on her shoulders.
Tomorrow, she would have to make a choice. But for tonight? Tonight, she was just here. With him.
And that was all she could give him.
Leon sat up slowly, rubbing his face with one hand, trying to clear the remnants of sleep and alcohol from his mind. The apartment was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that felt suffocating in its emptiness. The usual hum of the city outside, the soft creak of the floorboards when the wind moved through the cracks, it all felt distant now. His eyes darted to the empty space beside him on the couch, the blanket slightly askew where she had been. She was gone.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong—wrong in a way that went deeper than her just disappearing. His chest tightened, and he felt the familiar knot of panic begin to coil at the pit of his stomach. He ran a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. You've got to be kidding me, he thought, but the bitterness quickly turned to regret. This was the pattern. She came, got too close, and then pulled away. She always left him. He knew why.
Rose had never wanted to be anyone's anchor. And no matter how many times they'd said they'd be there for each other, no matter how many times they'd crossed paths in the darkest of places, she always found a reason to leave. He knew she was afraid. But that didn't stop it from hurting like hell. It didn't stop him from feeling betrayed every time.
But that's what she does, he thought bitterly. She pushes people away for their own good. Maybe she thought she was protecting him. Maybe she thought that by running, by doing whatever terrible thing she had to do—whatever Spencer had probably ordered her to do—she could shield him from the consequences of whatever twisted game she'd been drawn into.
The worst part was, he understood it. He understood it better than anyone. She was doing it because she still thought she was broken—because she thought he was better off without her. He hated that. He hated how she saw herself. How she never seemed to think that maybe they could fix things together, maybe they could heal those wounds... together.
Leon stood up, walking over to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water, trying to stave off the headache creeping in from his hangover. He gulped it down, the cool liquid offering little comfort as the memories of the night before floated up like ghosts.
He remembered her voice—soft, hesitant, but there. And her hand on his. I'm right here, she had said. I'm not going anywhere.
But that was just it. She had gone somewhere. She had disappeared again without a trace. And now he was left alone, again.
He couldn't help but wonder where she had gone. He couldn't stop the suspicion from creeping in, that maybe, just maybe, she was doing something dangerous. Something he couldn't stop, even if he tried.
That thought made his stomach churn. He wasn't sure if it was because he wanted to be the one to stop her, or if he was terrified of what she'd gotten herself into. He clenched his fists, frustration mixing with an all-too-familiar feeling of helplessness.
"She's human, Leon." His voice sounded hollow in the silence. "She's still human, no matter what she does."
He glanced at his phone, hoping—wishing—that there would be a message, some sign that she hadn't completely cut him out of her life. But there was nothing. Just an empty screen.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, making him freeze. His breath caught for a moment, heart pounding in his chest. Maybe it was her, maybe it was someone else. Maybe it was someone who knew what she was doing and had come to drag him into it.
Don't be an idiot, he told himself, moving toward the door. Don't get your hopes up. She's gone.
He opened the door slowly, half-expecting to find nothing or maybe someone from his past coming to drag him back into the mess he'd tried so hard to escape. But when he looked out, the hall was empty.
Except for a small envelope, left carefully in front of the door.
Leon's fingers trembled slightly as he bent down to pick it up. There was no name, no indication of who had left it. Just a simple note. He stared at the envelope for a long moment, his pulse thumping in his ears.
With a deep breath, he tore it open. Inside was a single sheet of paper. The handwriting was familiar, but it took him a moment to recognize it.
Leon,
I'm sorry. Please understand, this is something I have to do.
Don't try to find me.
–R.
His chest tightened. The words felt like a punch to the gut, and for a second, he could barely breathe. I'm sorry.
She always said she was sorry.
He closed his eyes, folding the note in half and pressing it against his chest. Maybe she thought she was protecting him by leaving. But she was wrong. He did understand. And that was what hurt the most. Because no matter how much she ran, no matter how many times she disappeared, he'd always find a way to follow.
This wasn't over. He couldn't let it be over.
He let the thought comfort him, though it did very little to soothe the ache in his chest. How would she change this time?
Leon stood there for a moment, holding the note close to his chest, his mind reeling. The words I'm sorry echoed in his head, a hollow repetition that threatened to break him. She always says she's sorry. It was a mantra, one he had heard countless times before. But this time, there was no hug to follow, no gentle smile to reassure him that everything would somehow be okay. This time, there was only the cold emptiness of her absence, and the gnawing fear that she wouldn't come back this time. That she had finally gone too far.
She'll be back. She always comes back.
He wanted to believe that. He needed to believe that. Because without that hope, without that promise she had always kept, there was no reason to keep going. No reason to keep fighting.
But what if it was different this time? What if she didn't come back? What if she truly believed she was doing the right thing, no matter how twisted it was? What if she was falling into the same darkness that had claimed so many others? The thought made his blood run cold.
He walked to the window, staring out at the city below, feeling utterly powerless. His hands gripped the windowsill, knuckles white. He knew how far she had gone in the past—how much she had sacrificed for the sake of something greater, something more important than herself. But he had seen the toll it had taken on her. He had seen the cracks in her walls, the weariness in her eyes, and the self-loathing that she refused to show anyone.
She had always been running from something. And now, it seemed like that something was closing in on her again.
Could I pull her back?
The thought lingered in his mind like a question with no answer. He had failed her before. Hell, he had failed himself. He had watched her slip away, each time more distant than the last, and each time with more regret gnawing at him. She had always put herself in harm's way, always thinking she was protecting him, or the world, or some distant ideal. But in the end, it was always her that was left to pick up the pieces. Always her.
His eyes drifted back to the note, the words searing into him like a brand. He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the moment press down on him. He knew Rose—better than anyone. He knew her fear, her self-doubt. She thought she was broken. She thought she had become the very monster she had once feared.
Could I pull her back from that?
He didn't know. He didn't know if he had the strength to pull her back, if he even had the right to try. She had always been a force unto herself, moving in her own direction, following a path that didn't always align with his own. But that didn't change the fact that she was his path—his anchor. The thought of her slipping further away, of her losing herself to whatever dark corner of her mind she had fallen into, made him sick.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his gaze lifting to the sky. Please, Ada. Please watch over her. The words were quiet, almost a prayer. He had no idea where Ada was, but he couldn't help but think of her. She had always had her own brand of protection, a kind of cold, ruthless loyalty that wasn't easily shaken. And maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to keep Rose from completely losing herself.
Leon turned away from the window and grabbed his jacket, pulling it on without a second thought. He wasn't going to sit around feeling sorry for himself. Not this time. Rose was out there, somewhere. And he couldn't just wait for her to come back. He needed to go after her. He needed to find her, no matter the cost.
He picked up his phone, scanning the contacts. He didn't know who would be able to help him this time. Maybe Chris would have some intel on Blue Umbrella's movements, or maybe there was someone from his old team who could point him in the right direction. He wasn't sure. But he wasn't going to let the past repeat itself.
Not again.
He tapped in a quick message, hitting send before he had a chance to second-guess himself. He couldn't afford to waste time.
I'm coming for you, Rose. I'm not letting you go this time.
He slid the phone back into his pocket and grabbed his keys, heading toward the door. The dawn stretched ahead of him, colorful, yet full of uncertainty. But one thing was clear: he wasn't going to wait around and hope for the best. He was going to find her.
Because if he didn't, he might lose her forever.
And that was a loss he couldn't afford.